Children and the Language of Spirit

I often reflect on how children move through the world: open, curious, untouched by the weight of doubt. Since becoming a medium, I have come to see that children are some of the most natural bridges to Spirit because their hearts are not yet conditioned to disbelieve what they feel, see, or hear.

When I was a child I too experienced the world with that same quiet knowing. The presence of Spirit was not something I questioned, it was simply part of life. Many children describe speaking to invisible friends, sensing a loved one who has passed, or dreaming vivid dreams that later unfold as truth. Adults often dismiss these moments as imagination yet to me they are the purest glimpses of eternity.

Children remind us of a truth we forget as we grow older: that the veil between this world and the next is not heavy, but light, shifting like water in the sun. They walk easily between wonder and reason, still hearing the whispers of Spirit in ways we may have learned to ignore.

As a medium I see this openness as a lesson. Spirit asks us to return, not to childishness, but to the childlike state of trust a place where we no longer question every flicker of intuition, every sudden sense of presence, every sign that appears in our path. To approach life with wonder is not to be naïve; it is to be wise in a way that logic alone cannot reach.

I once read for a mother who was grieving the loss of her own mother. What struck me most was her daughter, a girl of seven, who whispered to her one evening: “Grandma told me to tell you she’s okay.” The mother had not spoken of her pain to her child, yet the message carried a resonance that could not be denied. Spirit will often choose the innocence of children as a channel because their hearts are uncluttered and their minds unguarded.

Philosophers often speak of “returning to the source,” and I believe children embody this. They arrive fresh from that source still carrying its light. Their laughter, their tears, their questions all of it reflects the soul’s purity before the world layers it with fear, expectation and doubt. To observe a child is to remember that we, too, were once unafraid of mystery.

In my own journey I strive to keep this openness alive. Mediumship is, in essence, an act of remembering of returning to that childlike state where the heart listens more than the mind argues. When I sit in the quiet and open myself to Spirit, I try to see with the eyes of a child again, to hear with the same unquestioning trust, to feel without resistance.

Children remind us that Spirit is not separate, distant, or hidden it is woven into our everyday lives. The task of adulthood is not to abandon wonder, but to carry it with us to preserve the part of us that still listens to the invisible and trusts the unseen.

To walk with Spirit is to walk as a child does: open, curious and fearless. It is to live with the wisdom that love never leaves us, that connection is eternal and that the soul, like a child, is always reaching for the light.